The Wall Mimic Tragedy
by YesOfCourse
Summary: A blobulon and wall mimic meet, this is there story.


Chapter 1: The Meeting

There was a blobulon. Just a regular one. Constant smile, red sheen, no emotion except for killing and happiness, and as he went through the halls of the Keep of the Lead Lord, nothing changed. It was all the same. Sure, the rooms would shift sometimes, and people came in every so often, usually getting captured. The blobulon didn't mind. However, today was different. The blobulon was going along the walls of the room, when, out of the blue, one of the walls _grew a mouth_. A large tounge sprouted out, and sitting there was a large, tall, and greyish colored wall mimic. The two looked at each other. The blobulon had never seen anything like it. Suddenly, he felt something. It wasn't happiness, and it wasn't bloodlust, but being near this creature made it feel...something. It liked the feeling, and as it got closer, the feeling grew. Suddenly, there was the mimic, and, instead of the usual frown on the wall, it had a smile. After there first encounter, the blobulon vowed to stay in that room no matter what. It was always with the mimic, no matter what happened. It could feel the walls shift, and the rooms change, but always, _always_ , it stuck with the tall bricks. It could tell it was the start of something incredible.

Chapter 2: The Gungeoneer

Another day passed, then another. Weeks, months, years, it was always the same. The wall mimic in the wall, the blobulon next to it. Ever since there first meeting, it was like this. The one constant was each other, the feeling of being next to each other. The mimic knew this was right, that it was meant to be this way. However, one day, as the blobulon sidled up to the mimic, a loud sound was heard. There, on the other side of the room, the door slid shut. Standing right after it, was a man. He had stuck up hair and a vest on. Holding a pistol in hand, he approached the blobulon. He held up the pistol, and fired. The blobulon flew back, turning pure white. He fired again, but the blobulon rushed him. The man kept firing, and the blobulon looked at the wall. The mimic realized it was frowning. It was the first time it had seen anything like it. It didn't seem right, blobulons were supposed to be happy. A hit landed on the slime, and it split in two. More shots, and it was four. The man had taken out three of the four, and for good measure, rolled over the last slime. He smiled, satisfied with his work, as the door opened. The mimic tried to move, but realized that it had to be touched to do so. It was stuck, watching as the creature that had killed his companion walked out. As soon as the gungeoneer was gone, the wall mimic felt it could slip out of said wall, and ran over to the puddle of goo on the ground. Water leaked from the cracks in it's bricks. Sadness overflowed it. This was terrible. The wall mimic decided something. It needed _revenge._

Chapter 3: The Wallmonger

The mimic thought and thought, but couldn't come up with anyway to pull of the plan. Suddenly, it had a revelation. The Wallmonger. It had heard stories of the giant, bullet devouring wall. It slowly moved closer to the wall on the other end until whatever was there was squished. There was no better time to try and take out the gungeoneer than then. But how was it going to make it all the way down to the Hollow. It had only been to Gungeon Proper once before. It had heard that any lower was suicide, but it starved to avenge it's fallen companion. So, the wall mimic began to move. It implanted itself into a wall after a couple rooms and dug down deep into it's mind. Thinking about the blobulon and Hollow only, it felt the room vibrating. It was _moving._ It picked up speed, faster, faster, faster, and then, a sudden stop. The mimic stepped out of the wall and looked around. Ice covered the ground, skeletal bullet kin lumbered around. It was here.

It stomped around the hollow, through the rooms, looking for the door leading to the boss. Faster, it thought, faster. Finally, it saw a door. A bullet kin face with skeletal features was in front of it. It stepped on the pad, and the door shifted up. Inside, it saw nothing, but as it moved inside, it looked to the wall. There it was. The Wallmonger, an amalgamtion of ammunition kin littered across it. The wall mimic was here. The wall across from it was perfect. The mimic sidled right into it, and waited. The door opened once again, and there was the man. He walked inside, looking confident, and the Wallmonger lit up. Slowly, it moved, firing bullets and waves of fire. The man got hit more than a few times. He looked very hurt, perfect to be killed, and as the man rolled into the wall, the mimic snapped forth, gnashing his teeth into the man, and causing him to fall over, dead. It was done. However, the Wallmonger kept moving, and moving, and soon, the mimic was being pushed along. There it was, the mimic thought, the end of the corridor. The Wallmonger pushed the mimic against the wall, and kept going. The mimic felt itself breaking, splitting, cracking. It did not care however, for it had made peace.


End file.
